


French chocolates - everything but the penguins

by argonautic



Series: Works that didn't turn out like I thought [2]
Category: The Grand Tour (TV) RPF, Top Gear (UK) RPF
Genre: M/M, Mutual Masturbation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-20
Updated: 2020-04-20
Packaged: 2021-03-02 01:28:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,979
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23736859
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/argonautic/pseuds/argonautic
Relationships: Jeremy Clarkson/James May
Series: Works that didn't turn out like I thought [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1708075
Comments: 3
Kudos: 13





	French chocolates - everything but the penguins

After a good five minutes of reciprocal taunting, Jeremy was unable to reply to the last – actually good – dig James offered, so he just retorted:

"Well I’m going to my room and enjoying my gift - alone!", sporting the bag he had been given by an overly clingy admirer when they had all got back to their hotel, and kept his word.

James was soon, less ostentatiously, doing the same, moving to his bedroom and getting ready for the night.

It didn’t take long before he heard someone knocking on his door, muttering "May".

James rolled his eyes but decided to go and open the door nevertheless; he had already taken off his jeans, and didn’t bother to put on anything else, knowing it was Jeremy.

He wasn’t expecting to find him like that, though: leaning against the doorjamb, like he was filming a tacky commercial for an aftershave, one leg across the other, with a bottle of expensive-looking wine in his hand and a disappointed pout on his face:

"Turns out I lack a corkscrew", he explained.

James almost burst out laughing, containing himself just enough to avoid waking up the whole hotel, then replied:

"Turns out I have one. But it comes with a price"

"I'm open to negotiations",

Jeremy offered, and James grinned, the naughty grin of someone who wasn't going to surrender soon, then nodded at Jeremy to come inside his room, "Crap excuse by the way, and you should be drinking that with your thoughtful fan"

"I guess it's what she hoped for, since she’s left a note with a phone number inside the box”

James raised an eyebrow and turned to Jeremy, intrigued, and Jeremy closed the door behind him before adding:

"And... a lace thong."

James couldn’t contain his laughter this time, and Jeremy chuckled with him, well aware of the oddity of it all. Still barely able to talk among the giggles, James pointed out:

“Hope it was clean at least!”

“Well I guess… er, I don’t know actually… oh please don’t make me this about something like that, just give me the bloody corkscrew and I’ll put this bottle to good use”

“Not so easily, Mr I’ll Drink This By Myself”

“Oh come on”, Jeremy sidestepped around James and went for the minibar; he found the corkscrew, and also a packet that surely didn’t come with the standard selection expected to be there.

“What’s this?”, Jeremy asked, already unwrapping the fancy bow.

“French chocolates, seeing the ribbon”, James answered, “but it seems we’ll discover it soon – well, maybe”, he then added looking at how Jeremy was struggling to tear the packaging, while he was back to unbuttoning his shirt

“Do they come with a negligee or something? Or perhaps a pair of those tight-fitting boxer, you’ll never know from your admirers… oh, finally!”, Jeremy rejoiced and finally took off the cover from the chocolates’ box.

James’s reply was just a “Funny”, out of the corner of his mouth.

“Well…”, Jeremy went on while chewing something, “At least you could… use them… to replace those worn brief of yours – that was quite good actually”, referring to the one chocolate he’d just helped himself to and taking another one before grabbing the corkscrew.

“Ok so you’ve come here to use my corkscrew, eat my chocolates and criticise my underwear?”, James retorted.

“More or less”, Jeremy cut it short, busy uncorking the bottle. When he’d finally managed to, and not before having picked another chocolate right as he’d put down the corkscrew, he carefully poured the wine in both the glasses that were on the shelf above the minibar, ready for use.

He took one for himself, offering the other to James:

“Here. To pay back for the corkscrew.”

James thought it was obvious, since he was standing there wearing only his t-shirt and pants, but still pointed out:

“I was taking a shower…”

“It won’t be here anymore once you’ve showered, be aware”, Jeremy warned, and James knew it was going to be true, so he gave up freshening up and grabbed the glass Jeremy was offering him, tasting a sip:

“Not bad. You should have screwed her. Or no, maybe not, she might have asked for her bottle back”

“Ha. Have I already told you this is _my_ bottle right?”

“But I gave you the corkscrew, and you’ve already eaten half my chocolates.”

“Mh. Fair.”, and he poured James some more wine.

James waited for his glass to be half full, then grabbed the box of chocolates from Jeremy’s hands as he was choosing his next one, “Oi!”, and moved to the bed, turning on the television while passing in front of it, careful not to spill the wine.

Jeremy then saw James lounging on the double bed, the box of chocolates right in the middle of it, with the glass firmly in his hand while watching a random documentary about penguins, and thought he looked pretty comfortable in the end, so he decided to join him. Seeing his intentions, James commanded:

“Take off your grimy jeans, you oaf – and take that bottle here”,

raising his already empty glass towards him.

Jeremy handed over the bottle, then undid his jeans, took them off and just threw them on the chair, from where they immediately fell off, mostly for the pleasure of hassling James; he took off his shirt too and flung it as well, and reached James on the bed.

Both the drink and the food were more or less equally shared while watching the telly, miraculously avoiding spilling on the mattress what it turned out to be a really expensive wine – twice.

“A bit too strong, perhaps, mh?”, James offered, vaguely, and the slur in Jeremy’s word was already an answer:

“Yeah. That’s why I prefer rosé, but… it was a gift…”

For some reason, probably given the topic, Jeremy’s tipsy mind replayed all their dialogue from almost half an hour before, up to the point when he’d ended up evaluating James’s briefs.

He looked back at them again, but this time it wasn’t the state of the fabric that caught his eyes, rather the not negligible size of James’s cock, that under the stretched weave looked like he was nursing a semi, if not a full boner, and Jeremy guessed it could have been the reason why his briefs ended up looking so worn.

James spotted him looking studiously at his crotch, and couldn’t help remarking:

“Jeremy if you’re so bothered by my briefs, I can take them off, but I’m not sure it’s going to get any better”

“No! For all that’s holy please don’t”, Jeremy replied, flushing red.

“So please stop staring at them, would you?”

“Er… I was more bothered by their content, actually”, and he promptly realized he probably shouldn’t have said it loud – and that he should have stuck to rosé. James retorted, too loudly to pretend he wasn’t as pissed as Jeremy:

“Oh God, I’m just relaxing! Doesn’t it happen to you? Has yours already permanently resigned?”

“Ha. You’d better know it’s still properly functioning. Anyway, I don’t usually relax like that. I know you’re bigger than mine… but… it seems too much for blaming it on… relaxation, I mean.”

“Listen why don’t you just take your bottle and get back to your room instead of judging my underwear and my penis too?”

“Because it’s empty, mostly”

“So just watch the sodding penguins and shut up”, then chuckled at his own words.

Jeremy was focusing on everything but the penguins, and after a tangled-up series of mind connections he just plainly stated:

“Well I could have been shagging a thirtysomething mother of two with a questionable taste in lingerie, instead of being here, just so you know”

Allegedly intrigued by Jeremy’s consideration, James turned towards him, with the interested-yet-drunk look that usually would have implicated a long and often inconclusive digression about whatever James had been engaged by. But that time James’s answer was rather brief:

“But she didn’t provide you a corkscrew.”

“True. So I guess I should be eternally thankful to you, right?”, Jeremy offered.

“Told you, it came with a price”, and this time James sounded particularly mischievous, enough to temp Jeremy to ask further:

“So, what the hell do you want in return for a bloody corkscrew?”

James raised an eyebrow, looking down at the undeniable bulge in his brief, then at Jeremy again. And Jeremy understood.

“No. Not that.”

“Come on, I’m willing to return”, James said, quickly placing his hand on Jeremy’s groin in a move that seems too well directed for the level of tipsiness Jeremy was expecting from him. And Jeremy freaked out:

“Jaaaames!”

James stopped, his hand still on Jeremy’s slowly rising cock; he looked straight at Jeremy, his eyes dark and shining with lust, and under his breath he asked:

“Is it a no?”

Jeremy hesitated, and James run his finger on the fabric, up to Jeremy’s length, and his cock promptly responded to the touch, to Jeremy’s surprise. That, and the alcohol flooding around, was enough:

“Oh, sod off James”, he whispered, and shifted towards him to reach his crotch and finally gauged James’s cock. And yes, it was definitely hard.

They were soon fumbling in each other’s briefs, and in the overall confusion Jeremy had the alertness of breaking it all up just to take off his pants himself, “Oh that’s better”, and James took advantage of the break to take off his ones as well. When coming back from the chair where he’d put them, climbing on the bed from its foot, James couldn’t resist the instinct of licking up Jeremy’s now fully erected cock, and so he did, and Jeremy jolted in surprise:

“Oh no James please. Not that.”

“Oh. Ok, sorry”, James said, and moved over to lie on his side of the bed.

“Come on here”,

Jeremy found himself saying, and to James’s astonishment, he cupped James’s face before telling him, as gently as possible:

“Not… God, not now at least, ok?”

James nodded, and Jeremy registered the agreement but was shocked by his own words and moves, asking himself first when he reckoned it would have been the right time, and second if his gesture could have been mistaken for an aborted attempt for a kiss.

He quickly dismissed the thoughts as they settled next to each other again, far enough to avoid any chance to go further than just wanking, and – Jeremy at least – determined to avoid eye contact as well for good measure; James was quick to grab Jeremy’s cock, but Jeremy promptly reciprocated, and soon they were properly jerking off each other in quite a good synergy.

He quickly learnt that James’s hand didn’t feel much different from his own, so if he was close to panicking at the thought of his mate and co-presenter jerking him off, he’d just have to pretend it was his own hand the one so skilfully rubbing up and down his cock, and, even if sometimes it felt like a bad synced voice over, it worked when needed.

He hadn’t used that trick much longer though, as he soon grew confident with that debatable yet satisfying arrangement that started to feel completely worthy, and the fact of being James’s hand the one that was jerking him off turned into the hottest aspect of the whole thing.

Ingloriously, to his own standards at least, he was the one who came first; he must have admitted James was definitely skilful at it, and the way he kept under control even if Jeremy was wanking him back surprised Jeremy, making him embarrassed of the poor wording of his jumbled moans while James kept stroking him – and get stroked – and still managed to talk properly, in a particularly arousing low tone:

“God Jeremy… you’re good… go on… you like this right?... keep going… I so like this Jezza… I want to see you coming…”

It was the briefest sight, a flash before his eyes the split second before bursting out in a groan of sheer pleasure that blanked out his consciousness and emptied his soul, but the sight of James jerking off both of them simultaneously, as he had already gave up any movement in the onset of his orgasm, was something Jeremy wouldn’t have forgotten soon.

“Oh God James… you’ve been… brilliant…”, Jeremy granted, still shuddering, still determined to avoid any eye contact between the two of them, but he could hear the sloppy, rhythmic sound of James keeping stroking himself, and, soon after, his demand:

“Jezza… Mind if I…?”

“Oh no, no… I’m just afraid that… well…”, he panted, and hoped it was enough of an explanation and he wouldn’t have had to highlight how crushingly intense his orgasm had been right because of James.

“Just… let me…”,

James said, softly; he grabbed Jeremy’s hand and pulled it towards his groin again, but Jeremy tried to excuse himself more clearly this time:

“James… I’m knackered… I won’t…”

“Just grab it, please, I’ll do all the work”

Jeremy obeyed, placing his hand again on James’s cock, still silently disappointed by how it was longer, thicker and better performing than his own, and James placed his hand over Jeremy’s and started stroking again, moving Jeremy’s hand with his.

Despite being actually knackered, Jeremy found the sight of James, now less chatty but still moaning and panting, an enjoyable one: James was wanking himself harshly, not like the fast but careful movement Jeremy has tried to provide before, and as soon as he's found himself taking mental note of James's preferences, he feared he had gone too far in his thinking – again. Nevertheless, he still tried to keep with James's pace now that he was slowly recovering, and his cock with him, apparently, as it was finally recovering its standard sausage-like features, after having been easily mistaken for a pinkish collapsible glass up until a couple of minutes before.

Meanwhile, his now better settled grip on James's cock seemed to be working, as James kept invoking his name almost at each stroke,

"Oh Jeremy... oh yes... Jezza... oh please Jeremy please...",

up to the point when James shifted both hands upwards, almost at the tip of his cock, and guided Jeremy's in a sort of circular movement, almost pressing it down. Jeremy did his best to follow James’s moves up until he came, profusely came, and he couldn't help but adding the amount of cum produced to the list of things in which James was doing better than him. It was just a brief digression anyway, because he didn't want to lose the chance of looking at James all overwhelmed like that, shuddering and, more importantly, still whispering his name among the uncoordinated breathes.

It happened in the end: James was still recovering, collapsed on the bed with his eyes closed, all red, white and pink, and Jeremy was looking at him, studiously, in curious awe; when James finally opened his eyes, they inevitably looked at each other, and James promptly squinted, and Jeremy turned his head, looking anywhere else but at James's dark blue eyes, with his gaze falling on his own hand, wet with who knew whose semen.

After having opened his eyes again, James probably noticed what the focus of Jeremy’s stare was, since he grabbed Jeremy’s hand, the act almost familiar by then, and brought it to his mouth to start licking it up; Jeremy stared bewildered at the meticulous care with which James was cleaning each finger, twirls of his tongue first then sucking all the finger’s length inside his mouth, and couldn’t decide if it was gross or so bloody fucking delicious.

“Oh May, you’re a slut", he eventually said, letting it slip out instinctively, and feared it was probably too much, but James snorted a laughter in response and Jeremy just laughed with him, and it felt so liberating and tremendously normal.

“I’m going and trying to take the shower you hadn’t let me have before”, James finally stated, and get out of the bed headed to the lavatory.

“You should be thankful!”, Jeremy yelled in the general direction of the lavatory door, then muttered, “So should I. Bloody Nora.”, just to himself.

He had probably fallen asleep while waiting for James to get out of the lavatory, as he woke up at the freight train impression James was mastering during his sleep. His limp cock was stuck to his groin, and his hands were still sticky too, so he chose to wash up the bare minimum and get back to his room.

It probably had taken him longer than he thought, and perhaps he had also been louder despite having left the door ajar, since when he got back to the bedroom, he found James sitting on the edge of the bed.

“Oi. Sorry if I woke you up.”

“Oh, no problem”, James replied, languid. Jeremy felt the undeniable necessity for a conversation he really didn’t want to have at the moment, yet he tried, thinking he owed an effort at least:

“Er… it’s been… I mean-“,

but James hushed him – thankfully:

“It’s ok, we don’t have to talk about it. Especially if you don’t want to.”

Jeremy nodded:

“Yes… I guess it’s better… until we’re here at least…”

“No problem Jezza.”

“I’m going back to my room then… see you for breakfast, ok?”, he concluded, grabbing his clothes.

James answered already lying on his side, pulling back the sheets:

“Ok, goodnight”

While going out, Jeremy turned one last time and asked him:

“Oh James… do you remember which room Hammond’s at?”

“51, next to the lift”

“Thanks, goodnight”, and he closed the door.

The morning after, while walking to the lift to go down and have breakfast, James couldn’t help giggling when he spotted a lace thong hanging from the handle of room 51.


End file.
